


Not Yet

by herald_mage



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:16:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herald_mage/pseuds/herald_mage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his fight with Amy, Rory runs into someone who seems quite familiar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Set just before season seven, "Asylum of the Daleks" for Rory and between "The Waters of Mars" and "The End of Time" for Ten.
> 
> Sidenote: I blame Broadchurch.

It’s two days after their fight and Rory’s still raw. He can’t even explain how it started or when things slipped from horrible to worse.

He leaves work late: just before shift change, Doctor Grant dumped a stack of his incomplete paperwork on Rory’s desk with orders to finish it before morning.

Rory has a hard time not punching his smarmy face. A very hard time. But he does the paperwork with the same patience he used to wait two thousand years. Under his breath, though, he mutters curses about stupid, arrogant doctors.

He cuts through the park on his way to his mate’s flat. He’s been letting Rory crash with him, because of course--Amy kept their flat.

About halfway through the park, Rory loses steam. A wave of utter exhaustion, exasperation and loneliness swamp him, and he stumbles to a bench.

Head in his hands, he presses his palms against his eyes, hoping force will keep the tears at bay.

They fall anyway, adding to his helpless state, and he whispers, “Doctor, I hate you.”

“Sorry?”

The man appears almost out of nowhere. His hair is absolutely ridiculous, especially when paired with the brown pinstripe suit and converse he’s wearing.

Rory frowns at him. “Wasn’t talking to you, mate.”

“But you said my name,” the man wriggles a finger at him. “Just now.”

“What?” Rory squints at him. “Doctor?”

“That’s me!” The man is positively beaming.

“Do you work at St. Agatha’s?” Rory asks, because there’s something familiar about him.

The man deflates a bit. “No, no. Not that kind of Doctor.”

Rory stands up. “Well then,” he says. “Time to be off.”

The man bobs his head at him. “Where are you headed?”

“Just to my mate’s,” Rory says, and because the response is ingrained he asks, “And you?”

“Dunno,” the man says, but it doesn’t seem to make him sad. “Thought I’d pop forward for a bit, but now I’m thinking back is really the way to go. Maybe I’ll check in on Dickens again. Or the fifties in America and get it right this time!”

Rory freezes. “Doctor?”

“Yes?” The man says.

Rory pauses. “Doctor who, exactly?”

“No, no, just the Doctor.”

“I don’t suppose,” Rory hesitates. “I don’t suppose you have a blue box.”

“You know me,” the Doctor says, and suddenly he’s very, very serious.

Rory nods.

“But,” the Doctor says, “I don’t know you.”

“What does that mean?” Rory asks, although he has a guess.

“It means,” the Doctor says, “I should probably leave.”

There’s a slight silence and then Rory says, “Probably?”

“I’m not done with my time,” the Doctor says, and on his face is the exact look Rory saw at Demon’s Run.

Suddenly, all he can see is River, breaking back into her stormcage. _So very far to fall._

“No,” Rory says, quiet. And then again, more firm: “No. Doctor, you need to go.”

He looks into the Doctor’s eyes, and he can see the pain Amy’s raggedy man hides. Those eyes mourn for a million lost souls, for lives not saved, for chances lost.

“Why?” The Doctor asks, plaintive.

Rory forces himself to smile at the Doctor. It’s not too hard, he’s had practice. He even laughs a bit as he says, “Spoilers.”

And Rory turns and walks away from the man who isn’t yet his Doctor.


End file.
